A Little Thing
by petrelli heiress
Summary: Peter/Gabriel. One-shot. College!AU. In which Peter's usual Saturday night activities are interrupted by Gabriel and his damned baseball cap, and his plots for its demise go slightly awry.


**A Little Thing**

**Pairing: Peter/Gabriel**

**Warning: Sexytimes. Yup, here they be. **

**Author's Note: yet another college!AU fic. Could be taken as a sequel to Hunger and Sinner Repent, but you don't have to have read those. After the most recent episode of Heroes, I both love and loath that damned baseball cap. This came out of that. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Heroes. I don't own that quote. **

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_"Sometimes when I consider what tremendous consequences come from little things. I am tempted to think there are no little things," – Bruce Barton_

Peter was lying on his bed, minding his own damned business. This was a usual Saturday night activity for him, since he had never been a party animal (he left that kind of embarrassment to people like Isaac). Sometimes he read a book, although usually that ended in just staring at the ceiling, fiddling with his hair until it was exactly right. Since there was no mirror on the ceiling this action was rather pointless, but enjoyable nonetheless. He imagined having facial hair and grimaced because the only person he found facial hair attractive on was Gabriel, and anything that was attractive on Gabriel was never attractive on him. So it goes.

He had just slipped into a rather detailed erotic fantasy about Gabriel and his facial hair, when the door open and the man himself stepped in, closing the door quietly behind him. Peter gaped at the stranger before him.

"What the fuck are you wearing?" Peter was outraged. Where the fuck had that baseball cap come from? And how the hell was he going to get rid of it? In the back of his mind, the evil part of himself plotted its demise.

Gabriel blinked at him, obviously surprised at Peter's reaction to some aspect of his clothing. "Uh...clothes?" he replied. He glanced down at himself, hoping that he was in fact wearing clothes instead of a brown paper bag or something. Yes, he was wearing clothes. Well. That was a relief.

Peter rolled his eyes and gestured at the offending baseball cap. "I mean..._that_," he clarified, the word saturated in his loathing for the despised piece of attire. "It's just...it's not you."

Gabriel raised an eyebrow, smiling as his friend pouted at him. "How do you know it's not me?" he asked, his voice dropping an octave lower. Peter gulped. "For all you know, I could be a serial killer, murdering people to obtain their magical powers. This baseball cap..." He patted it in a friendly manner. "...could be my only way of keeping my identity hidden."

Peter continued to gape at him until the majority of what Gabriel had said managed to register in his brain. He snorted. "Oh, please," he said, waving his hand dismissively. "You couldn't be a serial killer. You wouldn't even hurt a fly!"

Gabriel glared at him. "You said you wouldn't bring that up ever again!" he whined, his bottom lip pushing out unintentionally. Peter smiled and Gabriel had the undeniable urge to wipe that fucking smug smile off that fucking adorable face. So he stalked over to where Peter was sitting on the bed, pushed him down and straddled him.

"That cap is going to get in the way," Peter murmured, eyes half closed, breath already coming harsh and fast.

Gabriel smirked down at him. He shook his head. "No, it's not." He leaned down and captured Peter's mouth with his, careful to keep the cap from hitting Peter's forehead. He was doing quite well until Peter's finger decided that they really must card themselves through his hair. He spared a sympathetic thought for his precious baseball cap before it fell off and landed beside them on the bed.

"See?" Peter murmured into his mouth. "Told you it was going to get in the way."

Gabriel growled and pulled back, standing up and grabbing the baseball cap as he did so. He pushed it firmly onto his head, raised an eyebrow at Peter's rather dishevelled appearance and then began to move away.

"Gabriel," Peter said, smiling slightly. When his friend looked as though he wasn't going to stop, Peter sighed and stood. "Gabriel, wait." He followed his friend and grabbed his nearest hand, pulling him back towards him. He tugged him closer until their bodies were flushed against one another. He peered under the visor of the baseball cap and tried to smile.

"You have to admit, you do look creepy," Peter said, his fingers stroking Gabriel's cheek. God, he loved it when Gabriel hadn't shaved in a few days. He revelled in the feeling of rough stubble under his fingers.

Gabriel frowned and pulled away. "I do not." He pouted again. Peter wondered whether Gabriel actually knew he was doing that. If he did, what a bastard, he must know how Peter felt when he pouted. And if he didn't...thank the powers that be.

"Yes, you do," Peter insisted. "All dark and mysterious, and you know people like actually being able to see other people's eyes. It gives them...a sense of security, I guess." He shrugged.

"Do _you _think I look creepy?" Gabriel asked, innocent as the clear blue sky. Peter's eyes narrowed.

"Well, I guess if we were in some school and you were throwing locker doors at me...yes," Peter replied cautiously. Gabriel had that innocent look about him, almost exactly identical to the one he'd had when he'd asked whether Peter liked ice cream. Not that that had been a particularly bad experience. Messy, yes. Bad, no. He'd just developed a sense of suspicion whenever Gabriel gave him that innocent look. It had taken an entire week to clean up after last time.

"What about here, now?" Gabriel asked, stroking his face, the noises he made sounding almost like purring. Peter blinked as he felt the backs of his knees hit the bed. Gabriel had managed to steer him to the bed without seeming to. Damn that man.

"Uh," said Peter cleverly. He blinked, surprised, as Gabriel kissed him and then surrendered because, what the hell, it wasn't like he cared overly much about the baseball cap. If it made Gabriel happy, then who was he to complain? After all, a happy Gabriel was a Gabriel with an ultra-mega-talented tongue. Peter never passed up opportunities like that.

They curled back in bed after Gabriel had exercised that ultra-mega-talented tongue of his and Peter wondered about destiny, true love and having Gabriel be his light in the darkness, like a large star, or better yet, the moon, shining down from the night sky. He absently reminded himself to do the laundry tomorrow because it was starting to pile up and he was beginning to run out of clothes.

He glanced up at Gabriel, who had his eyes closed, head titled back slightly against the bedpost. He enjoyed the feeling of Gabriel stroking his arm before realising that Gabriel was still wearing the baseball cap. He had a burst of evil thoughts towards the blasted thing – really, Gabriel had somehow lost all of his clothes _except that damned baseball cap_, how was that even possible? – and then sighed. It didn't look like there was much he could do about it.

He shifted slightly and Gabriel opened his eyes, gazing down at him with this beautiful smile plastered across his damned adorable face. He moved so that he was straddling Gabriel and leaned down to kiss him on the nose, being careful not to hit himself in the face with the baseball cap. Gabriel grinned at him stupidly, the shadow of the visor turning it sinister in a way that made Peter realise very quickly that his body found quite attractive, thank you very much.

He sighed deeply and ran his hands over Gabriel's stomach and through his chest hair. He couldn't see Gabriel's eyes but he definitely heard the hitch in his breath. He wondered whether he'd ever get used to the way his heart sped up at that sound, the way his stomach tied itself in knots at the way Gabriel responded to him.

He'd never wanted anything or anyone the way he wanted Gabriel. Sometimes it hit him half way through a lecture and he'd have to hold back a gasp because Gabriel _wasn't there_ and it felt like half of his soul was missing. This was of course entirely ludicrous, ridiculous, preposterous. He could survive without Gabriel, after all he'd done quite well before he'd met the guy. Yes, maybe some nights he'd lie awake and wonder what was missing in his life, wonder at that ache in his heart, but usually this was after he'd had a few sips (okay, gulps..._okay, _a few bottles) of his parent's wine and so was easily dismissed as some sort of alcoholic emotionalism.

But now...now he didn't even have that excuse. He wondered if Gabriel felt the same way he did. Possibly. The guy continually declared his love for Peter, even in situations where it was not wholly appropriate, like at his father's birthday party (to be fair, Gabriel had been drunk). Dad had not been happy with that particular declaration at all. He'd glared at Peter – in his own, ice-cold way – for the rest of the night until Peter thought it best that he and Gabriel leave. Arthur Petrelli did not like incredible shows of emotions, especially while drunk – he called it undignified.

Peter smiled. Undignified. Huh. Outside of those drunken instances, Gabriel could almost be the epitome of the good boy. He was so stiff and formal with everyone that people just couldn't resist trying to get him drunk, just to see the effects, the changes in him. He couldn't exactly blame Nathan, since he'd been guilty of exactly the same thing earlier on in their friendship. Not that Gabriel was unemotional when he wasn't drunk. No, he was just painfully shy – or at least he had been – and alcohol was just oh so helpful in getting rid of those pesky inhibitions, at least for a little while.

He gazed down at Gabriel and smiled as his friend came undone under his nimble fingers, baseball cap slipping slightly askew, letting Peter see just a bit more of that beautiful face. He smirked as an idea hit him. Maybe...

He slipped down to take Gabriel in his mouth, tasting the remnants of his recent orgasm and not particularly caring. He proceeded to lick, and taste, and suck, as he watched Gabriel through half closed lids, watched as Gabriel moaned, mouth hanging open slightly, baseball cap slipping even more askew. He smiled triumphantly as Gabriel came with a wordless cry, his body's shudders dislodging the baseball cap even more.

Gabriel watched him lick his lips for a moment and then pulled him up roughly, not caring that his grip would leave bruises. Peter heard a mewling sound and it took him a moment to realise the sound was coming from him. He had only a few seconds in which to digest his surprise because then Gabriel was pulling him down and kissing him as though he'd never ever stop. The baseball cap fell to the floor, falling between the bed and table beside it, probably never to be heard from again. Peter had no room left to feel triumphant, not even satisfaction that he'd accomplished his goal, because oh god Gabriel definitely had an ultra-mega-talented tongue. And Peter couldn't help but reciprocate the only way he knew how, by returning the kiss and combing through Gabriel's hair with his fingers. Gabriel didn't even notice the absence of the baseball cap, or so Peter gathered from the noises he was making.

His heart, already going twice the normal speed as it was, sped up even more as he realised Gabriel was repeating his name like a mantra, like a code he'd live by and never ever break. Peter gasped out, spurred on by the moment, that he loved him always forever oh god oh god never leave him never please oh god...

He blinked as he realised Gabriel had gone silent. He squeezed his eyes shut and then opened them slowly, gazing down at Gabriel's stunned face. He wondered why for a moment and then realised that, oh fuck, he'd never told Gabriel any of that, at least when he was sober. And awake. Oh fuck.

"Oh fuck," he said out loud, in order to fill the increasingly uncomfortable silence.

"You love me?" Gabriel asked, sounding as though he'd been hit over the head by a very large, very brutal hammer. Peter couldn't really blame him. After all, he'd always been the one to insist to anyone who would listen that they were just friends. Friends with benefits, true. But still just friends.

"Um," Peter said, stalling for time. His brain scrambled for something, anything, to say but words eluded him. He lapsed into silence and squeezed his eyes shut, as though closing his eyes and wishing the situation away would make it so. He eventually opened his eyes when he felt Gabriel's hands stroke up and down his arms, and found Gabriel smiling fondly up at him.

"I love you," Peter blurted out and then flushed bright red as Gabriel blinked up at him in surprise. A slow smile, which eventually upgraded into a full on smirk, spread across Gabriel's features and Peter found himself flipped over with Gabriel now smirking down at him.

"I did realise what you were doing, you know," Gabriel said, his tone almost polite, almost formal, except for that hitch in his breathing. Peter gazed up at him, uncomprehending. His head was in the clouds, his body tied to the earth, he didn't know which way was up and which was down. How could Gabriel expect him to understand ambiguous sentences like that?

"Trying to get my baseball cap off like that." Gabriel frowned down at him and Peter had a brief panic attack, wondering what he'd done wrong, before he noticed the almost imperceptible twinkling in Gabriel's beautiful brown eyes. "You've been very naughty, Peter," he growled, thrusting down without warning, the movement making Peter's eyes roll back into his head, a moan issuing from his throat. "You need to be punished."

Peter wondered at the change in Gabriel's tone, now so dark and sinister. He gazed up at this man above him and wondered briefly what kind of man Gabriel would have been if they'd never met. He shuddered at the thought of never meeting him, this man who insisted on breaking and fixing him on equal terms. He succumbed to the so-called punishment, never seeing it as such because who would? Gabriel's mouth, and tongue, and hands all over him, bringing him to the brink and pulling him back time and time again. If this was truly punishment, Peter would like to be punished this way for eternity.

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**So. I don't know. I think I might go write crack. **

**Review please. **


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